


A is for Athleisure

by violetclarity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Athleisure, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, HP Joggers Fest, Humor, Joggers, Pansy in athleisure, athleisure as a valid style choice, gratuitous description of lululemon apparel and accessories, some slight shaming of not exercising but not related to body image or health, spin class, the gym
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetclarity/pseuds/violetclarity
Summary: Ginny doesn’t understand why Pansy Parkinson is always lounging at the gym in workout clothes when she never actuallyworks out.





	A is for Athleisure

**Author's Note:**

> A little something I wrote for HP Joggers Fest, because the world needs more femslash. Huge thanks to **frnklymrshnkly** for beta-reading!
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

Ginny’s huff of irritation was audible from across the room. Pansy Parkinson, standing by the juice bar, tossed her ponytail – and it had to be magic that made it that bouncy; no one’s hair just naturally _did that._ She took a sip of her drink, which was a peachy pink colour and probably had added sweetener, which defeated the entire purpose of a post-workout smoothie, but whatever. It’s not like Parkinson ever actually _worked out_ at the exclusive wizarding gym where they were both members, Ginny thought bitterly as she tilted her head back to drink from her water bottle. Her ponytail was falling down, half of it plastered to the back of her neck with sweat; her vest was similarly drenched. She knew she looked disgusting, but she looked this way because she’d been _exercising,_ unlike _some people._ Ginny had a membership at this gym so she could stay in shape for her job.

She had been one of the first members of The Club on Diagon, back when Ernie and Blaise were still trying to get their idea off the ground, and offered a reduced membership fee to anyone whose presence might increase their name recognition. Ginny had convinced Harry and Ron to join with her, and although they’d both dropped out about the same time they left Auror training, she had stayed. She took full advantage of the offerings as they expanded – more advanced magic exercise equipment, longer hours, and increased class offerings, such as the spin class she’d just finished.

Across the room, Parkinson laughed and pushed at the shoulder of the hunky guy behind the bar, the movement flirtatious. Ginny found herself crossing the room and slamming her water bottle down onto the stainless steel bar top. Hunky Juice Bar Guy looked surprised at her arrival. Parkinson’s face was neutral.

“I’ll have a…” Ginny trailed off, looking up at the menu. _Merlin,_ but this place was expensive. Two Sickles for a fancy apple juice? “A Bubble Bubble Berry smoothie, please.”

Hunky Juice Bar Guy turned away to go fix Ginny’s smoothie, and Parkinson shifted to face her, lounging against the bar. She was wearing black leggings with geometric mesh panels cut out, exposing rectangles and triangles of pale skin up to her mid-thigh. Her top was loose and left her back completely exposed, the fabric connected by a loose twist at the base of her spine. The bright lace of her bra was on full display, and Ginny scowled. No one exercised in _lace._

“Good workout?” Parkinson asked, curling a hand around her ponytail. In the other hand she held her half-finished smoothie. Her nails were manicured.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Ginny said. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

Parkinson’s brow furrowed. “Beg pardon?”

Ginny continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “You see, some of us actually come here to work out. Exercise, you know? Do some movement. Try to stay in shape.” She gestured to her own more reasonable attire – loose athletic shorts and a vest that actually covered her torso – and blushed when she remembered how sweaty she was.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Parkinson asked. Her gaze on Ginny was as sharp as her words.

“Just that you’re always here to lounge.” Ginny nodded at Parkinson’s ridiculous get-up and pristine make-up. “Why even pay for a membership, if you’re not going to take advantage of it?”

There were spots of color high on Parkinson’s cheeks and she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Hunky Juice Bar Guy was setting Ginny’s drink down in front of her. It was a darker purple than she knew berries could be.

“Three Sickles five,” he told her, and Ginny counted out the money, dropping some extra knuts into the tip jar. She left without looking back at Parkinson, feeling a bit ashamed about her outburst. Parkinson wasn’t really doing anything _wrong,_ coming to the gym to hang around; if she wanted to waste her money on a membership, that was up to her. Ginny just wished her gym attire was less...distracting.

\-----

Ginny was adjusting the tightness of the stirrups on her spin machine when Pansy Parkinson dropped her gym bag down next to her.

“Parkinson?” Ginny blinked as Parkinson pulled her hair up into a bun and set her water bottle in the holder. She was wearing smart black trainers and strange joggers that were cuffed above her ankles and made of a shimmery material. Her vest this week was more fitted and vaguely meshy; Ginny could see a sports bra in the same sage green as her joggers peeking through the holes in the black fabric.

“Ginny.” Parkinson nodded in Ginny’s direction as she hopped onto her bike and cast the adjustment spell to make it fit her dimensions. At the front of the room, the instructor was fiddling with the sound system, which Ginny knew meant class would be starting soon, but Ginny was stalled in the process of getting her gear out – the thought of Pansy Parkinson taking a spin class was so foreign it was frying her brain.

“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, getting onto her own bike. Her stirrups tightened around her feet, and she wiggled her toes, making sure nothing was too tight.

Parkinson looked around the room and then back at Ginny. “I’m taking an exercise class? Isn’t that what one does at a _gym_?”

Ginny nodded, still a little dumbstruck. “Yes?”

Parkinson lifted her arms above her head in a stretch. The top of her bra winked out above the armhole of her tank. Ginny was not distracted by it. “What? Surprised that I’m not just _lounging_?”

Ginny opened her mouth to defend herself against Parkinson’s truthful accusation, but had not worked out what she was actually going to say before the witch instructing the class turned down the music and began to shout.

“On your bikes, everyone!” she yelled, already enthusiastically pedaling. “We’re going to start off today with some intervals…”

If Ginny had expected Parkinson to take it easy during the class, she was proven wrong. Parkinson pedalled vigorously, stood whenever the instructor did, and adjusted the resistance of her machine periodically. Ginny lost her pace more than once because she was watching Parkinson out of the corner of her eye, trying to determine how fast she was going.

At the end of the workout Parkinson hopped off her bike cheerfully, taking a long sip from her water bottle (a red-orange snakeskin pattern embossed with a stylised horseshoe logo), while Ginny cast antiseptic charms on her bike. Parkinson did the same before turning to Ginny with a sharp smile.

“Well, that was quite invigorating! I think I’ll be getting myself a juice now. After all, I deserve it. Don’t I? We’ve worked up quite a sweat.”

Parkinson pushed her hair back off her face, revealing sweaty temples. Ginny knew from past experiences of Parkinson standing behind her in the queue for the water fountain that her shampoo smelled flowery and amazing, and she couldn’t help but imagine what her hair would smell like now.

Before Ginny could say anything – apologise for how rude she’d been, in hindsight, to assume Parkinson never used the gym, or offer to pay for Parkinson’s post-workout juice, even if it would be overpriced – Parkinson had swept towards the door, her oversized, shimmery mauve tote bumping against her hip. Her ridiculous cuffed joggers _swished_ as she went, and Ginny had the thought that she wanted to feel that material herself, to discover if it was as silky as it looked.

Fuck.

\-----

Ginny went to an extra spin class the following week, wondering if the class on Friday morning, as opposed to Wednesday afternoon, was the one Parkinson usually attended; however, Parkinson wasn’t there, nor was she hanging out at the juice bar on Sunday like Ginny expected. Ginny arrived earlier than usual for her class on Wednesday, hoping she might see Parkinson, but not really expecting to. So she was surprised to find Pansy Parkinson leaning against the bar, a familiar sight. Parkinson was wearing black trousers that were tight over her arse and thighs and flared dramatically below the knee with a multicolored hoodie. When she turned around, Ginny saw that the hooded jacket was open in the front. Underneath, Parkinson was wearing a sports bra with extra straps above the cups which highlighted her cleavage.

Ginny set her water bottle on the surface of the bar, attempted to spin it, and flushed when it tipped over and spilled. Parkinson cast a drying spell and smiled at Ginny. Ginny blushed harder.

“I wanted to apologise for what I said. I shouldn’t have implied that– well– obviously I was wrong about what I said. You know, that you never work out… And even if that were true, you can still come to the gym. Obviously. I mean, it’s your money you’d be wasting on the membership.”

Ginny dared to look up and was surprised to see Parkinson smiling at her. “I accept your apology.”

Ginny let out the breath she was holding. “Oh, good–”

“You were right, anyway.”

“Beg pardon?”

Parkinson laughed. “I’ve never gone to a class here before last week. My legs are still killing me; as soon as I got home I collapsed and I didn’t get out of bed all day Thursday.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. She closed it. “Um, then why... why did you go to the class?”

“I wanted you to feel bad,” she said bluntly, and laughed at Ginny’s expression. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“If you aren’t actually here to work out, then why are you always hanging around, wearing sport clothes?”

Parkinson smoothed her hands down her jacket, tugging on the hem. “I like wearing these clothes,” she said. “They’re comfy. They’re the opposite of everything my parents tried to force me into when I was a girl. And I’ll have you know that athleisure is a valid style choice now.” She sniffed. “It’s up and coming.”

Ginny couldn’t help but smile at that. “Do you have to be at the gym to wear, um, athleisure?”

Parkinson coloured and looked at Ginny’s feet. “No,” she said. “But I was hoping this hot girl who’s always at the gym would notice me if I went to her natural habitat, so…”

“Who? Um– what?” Ginny’s throat was parched but she struggled to unscrew the cap of her water bottle, her fingers suddenly slippery with sweat.

“Did it work?” Parkinson asked. Her eyes were sparkling. “I really hope it did – Draco’s going to kill me if I ask him to add me as a guest on his membership for another month.”

“Work?” Ginny’s mouth was still struggling to catch up with her brain.

Parkinson’s smile faltered. “If I’ve made you uncomfortable, or you’re not interested, I–”

“No!” The word came out too loud. Ginny set her water bottle firmly down and grabbed Parkinson’s hand. “Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?”

“As long as I never have to do a spin class again,” Parkinson said. She was smiling.

“I promise.”

\-----

Parkinson opened her door that night in a long black dress, sleeveless, with slits that went midway up her thighs. As she cast a Warming Charm and grabbed her clutch, Ginny laughed.

“So you do have some clothes that aren’t sportswear,” Ginny said. _Athleisure,_ she had decided, was a silly word, and she could support Pansy’s desire to wear it without actually having to say it.

Pansy turned, revealing the dress’s crossover back, and grinned. “That’s what you think,” she said. “This dress is designed for pilates.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
